The Union of MiddleEarth
by Huzzer1878
Summary: Saruman has grown strong, and now a desperate group of Elves, Men and Dwarfs fight for the fate of Middle-Earth.
1. The Defiling of Rivendell

Chapter #1 - The Defiling of Rivendell  
  
In the deep valley of Rivendell there was silence broken only by the trickle of the waterfall as the crystal clear water cascaded onto the smooth white rocks below. The tall trees sprawled across the side of the valley rustled slightly in the breeze. Above the clouds drifted past slowly, revealing the glistening light of the moon, which illuminated the sweeping hills and sparkling water below. There was an air of expectation about, like something large was waiting to pounce. Minutes passed, then a quiet murmur began to rise amongst the trees. Now in the forest that had seemed empty, graceful figures flitted here and there, silver flashes were all that could be seen as the moon glinted off the fair elven hair. In the distance a low rumbling was heard, like a drum beat. A foul stench, that had never before reached Rivendell hung in the air. To the south of Rivendell, torches burnt in the distance. Great fires rose up as the flames consumed the fair trees surrounding the city. Lord Elrond stood at the top of the tallest tower in Rivendell, where the sheer white walls stood firm and proud. His face was stern and a snarl crossed his wizened face. "Orcs." He whispered to himself with loathing. Never before had the evil in the south attempted an open assault on Rivendell, but now the strength of Saruman had grown past even that of Lord Elrond Half-Elven, wisest of the elves on Middle Earth save Galadrial. As the orcs came closer, his keen elven eyes counted their numbers. They were like a black swarm of ants, consuming everything in their path. At the front large orcs stood proudly, they had spiked black armour on and many carried longbows. They were the fighting Uruk-Hai. They were a foe that could travel in sunlight and run for miles without rest. Elrond shook his head. In that moment, even as the black clouds swamped the last light of the moon and a light rain began to splash down on Rivendell, hope left the Elven Lord. Turning away, he started to go down the stairs. He was wearing shining silver armour and carrying his sword. Quickly he placed on his helmet and stood for a minute in the doorway. Just as he was about to leave a figure blocked his path. "Father, I wish to fight by your side and for Rivendell." Elrond sighed, "Sissi, you know that it is impossible. You are too important." With that he kissed her on the cheek and strode away to command the forces. Sissi watched him. She looked down at the sweeping white dress she wore and quietly her hand reached up to the locket around her neck. "Forgive me Father" She muttered, and then turned away. She slipped unseen into the armoury and quickly tightened a piece of Mithril armour around herself. Then she picked up her sword. As she held it in her hand, the edges glowed a faint blue and fire seemed to flash around the blade. She smiled, then pushed back her hair and pulled on a helmet, which all but covered her face. Checking herself once more, she turned to head out to battle. She found Elrond on the outskirts of Rivendell. The orcs were nearly in bowshot now and an eerie silence had fell in Rivendell. The orcs were going to attack from the front, up the valley side. All around elven archers had their arrows pointed, ready to find their mark with deadly accuracy. Elrond paid no attention to the solitary elf warrior, and not seeing her true face he turned away, and headed over to the other side of the city. Nobody saw that Sissi Elrond, Princess Rivendell was at the front line of elves, ready to fight until she had no strength left. She had promised to stay inside, until all was lost but she was a warrior and did not fear death. There she stood, the darkness surrounding her as the orcs finally reached the valley floor, and began their ascent.  
  
At that moment a great shout rose up around Rivendell, and the dark sky was pierced by thousands of elven arrows. The first lines of orcs fell motionless as barely one arrow was wasted. The orcs, stunned by the ferocity of the elven attack, fell back. Fear awakened in their hearts, but it was soon displaced by a lust for war. Like a great battering ram, the orcs crashed against the first line of elves. They were pushed back as wave upon wave of black Uruk Hai smashed against them. Soon the elves had retreated into the forests surrounding Rivendell, and orcs were filling the valley. Lord Elrond watched, his spear glistening with orc blood. His heart grew heavy as he saw the beauty of Rivendell defiled by the orcs. He cursed Saruman, then slammed shut the door. Now orcs surrounded Rivendell and the elves were closed up inside. A group of them held the door, but even they knew it would not be long before it fell. The elves faces were no longer full of joy, but grave and miserable and a great song of sorrow and the falling of Rivendell began to be sung. It filtered through the ranks of elves, watching the orcs from behind the wall and tears flowed down their beautiful faces. Elrond gave the orders, "We must abandon Rivendell and make our way over the mountains to Lothlorien, there we can stay. Somebody go and collect Sissi from her chambers, and bring her to me." A tall elven captain stood and left silently.   
  
It was at that time that Sissi stood in the forest, her fury in battle had pushed a small band of orcs back but she was now enclosed in the woods, surrounded by orcs while the gates of Rivendell were shut. She looked back, a tear in her eye as she knew it was the end. She leaned against a tree and gathered her thoughts, only a small band of elves stood with her, and orcs were creeping through the forest. She could hear them coming closer, their shrill voices rising through the trees. "Death, Death, Death" They screamed, and the elves hung their heads. Darkness took them, and many fell to their knees and were despaired. At that moment, the orcs came upon them, and a great Uruk Hai captain charged. But in his lust for blood, he had charged too soon, his orcs had not kept up with him and he charged at the band of elves alone. It was at that time when Princess Sissi, warrior of Rivendell, pulled back her cloak, and the white beauty of Rivendell filled her face. Power radiated from her, and the elves felt their hearts leap as they recognised the solitary figure. "For Rivendell!" She cried, and the orc hesitated. He had not anticipated a foe of such beauty and wrath. Sissi stepped forward, and in the second that hope had failed for the elves, a glimmer of hope had risen. They stood up, and raised their swords, and their voices were fair and terrible. They charged the orcs, and Sissi slew the Uruk Hai captain as he turned to flee. Now the orcs in the forest were being pushed back as the elves desperately fought. Even now, the power of Saruman was great however, and new forces of goblins and cave trolls assaulted the forest, so that Sissi's band of elves were once again overpowered, and many were slain. A great cry rose up, as the gate of Rivendell fell, and orcs rushed in. Sissi bowed her head, she knew all was lost now. She raised he sword up and with one last shout charged the orcs entering Rivendell from behind. She felt a blow to her head and then she fell. She saw nothing else.  
  
Inside Rivendell, Elrond saw the gates fall. Time was short, where was Sissi? At that moment his captain returned. "Sissi's chambers are empty, and her sword has gone."   
Elrond bowed his head low. "Then indeed Sissi has gone to battle and been lost." For the elves, the grief was too much. Tears stung their eyes and a great wrath came upon them. For Elrond, a darkness spread across his eyes, and he fought no more. He turned and made his way to Sissi's chamber, where he sat near to the window, to finally see the fall of Rivendell.   
The great valley was now alight with large fires, and smoke filled the air. Orcs cheered and chanted as they marched into Rivendell, hewing the elves as the fell. Behind them a drum was heard. 'Boom, Boom, Boom." Behind the orcs, at the top of the valley stood a new army. It was half the size of the first orc army, but from his window Elrond could see that they were taller, and their swords glinted in the sunlight. Elrond watched them, despair filling his heart as they began their march towards Rivendell. "Sarumans power has grown beyond comprehension." He muttered, watching the hordes of orcs as they turned towards the new army and cheered. But their cries faltered as realisation dawned on them. A large banner was being unfurled at the front of the new army and it was white, with a single golden leaf on it. Then the army charged. Elrond smiled, Lothlorien had come. Even in the hour of victory for the orcs, the elves of the great wood came upon them from behind. The orcs turned to greet them, and even then may have won was it not for the elves of Rivendell, who, refreshed and filled with anger for their fallen Princess charged out of Rivendell. The orcs were trapped between two foes, and even their hatred towards the elves couldn't keep them there, many fled, or simply laid down their weapons and bowed their heads as the two kins of elves met in the valley of Rivendell. Joyful was the meeting of Glorfindel of Rivendell and Andril, Prince of Lothlorien, oldest of the sons of Galadrial. "A blessing be passed on the hour of our meeting." Shouted Glorfindel as they met, and rested for a while on their swords. Andril bowed, "Not while Lothlorien is here shall Rivendell fall unheeded." Then they turned and headed back to battle, and all who saw them fell back, and fear filled the orcs as the might of the two kins was united. No orc escaped out of Rivendell that day, and the sky brightened. Sun shone down the valley, and it glistened off the waterfall. But for the elves, sorrow had befallen them. Many had fallen in the battle. Galdor of Rivendell and Haldir of Lothlorien, as well as Gosri and Fosri, councelors to Elrond, who had fallen protecting him to the end. However, the most sorrow was saved for Princess Sissi Elrond, mightiest of Elronds children, whose beauty was beyond that of any elf since Luthien Tinuviel graced Middle Earth. So it was that Prince Andril sheathed his sword and stumbled upon Sissi, lying at the gates of Rivendell. An orc was standing over her, axe raised. With a quick movement Andril killed the orc, and stepped over her. Her hair shone like gold in the sun, but a trickle of blood dripped down her face, and her arm looked broken. Andril was filled with sympathy for her, and he knew her to be Sissi Elrond. He bowed down and kissed her forehead. "Never again shall there be one like you Princes Sissi." But her skin was warm to touch, and a hope leaped in Andrils heart. He scooped up the Princess and lifted her into Rivendell. He reached the houses of healing, where the warden was waiting. "Prince Andril, it's been a long time since you were here, but you came again, just when you were needed most."   
"Yes Gwalfir, but now you are needed most. Here is Princess Sissi, beloved daughter of Elrond." The warden burst into tears.   
"Save your tears, for she is not yet dead. I bid you to see to her until Lord Elrond can be found."   
"This is surely a hope beyond hopes, I heard that she died defending Rivendell till the last, but I will do all I can."   
Andril nodded, and left to find Elrond. Soon the rumour passed through Rivendell like wildfire that the Princess was alive, and a great song burst through the defiled valley. Hearts were lifted and it seemed the sun shone on celebration. Elrond went to tend to Sissi, and a great mound was made for the brave elves that had died in battle. A song was sung about the siege of Rivendell and many tears were spilled, but for now Saruman was defeated and he sat in Orthanc, cursing Andril, and vowing to kill Sissi, for it was because of her that Saruman had attacked Rivendell, to his great loss. None of the orcs returned to Orthanc, save one. He was Grugra of Moria, and he became a great general for Saruman. 


	2. The Parting of Lothlorien

Chapter #2 - The Parting of Lothlorien  
Sissi opened her eyes. She was lying on her back, and a strong smell filled the room. It was refreshing and seemed to fill her body with strength, slowly flowing through her, warming her insides that had felt bitterly cold since the battle. "Athelas." She muttered as she sat up. She stood up and looked around. She was in a small room with just a bed in it, the walls were grey, with draped red curtains hanging from the solitary window that overlooked Rivendell. This was the House of Healing, long had it been unattended for no hurt and sorrow had ever befallen Rivendell until the attack from the South. Sissi's eyes flitted to the large heavy wooden door. "You must stay in the House for a week, it is many days ere the battle was won but still you are not fully recovered." A soft voice said behind her. Sissi jumped, and spun around. Behind her was a tall elf, with shining blond hair and silver armour, which was entwined with golden thread and glimmered in the early morning light. His appearance was that of great beauty, but there was an element of peril in his voice. "Prince Andril at your service." Sissi just shrugged and sat down on the bed. She was beginning to feel dizzy and she had become all too aware of the sharp pain shooting through the back of her head. "There is little service you can give me, if I must stay here against my will." There was a hint of vulnerability in her voice, and Andrils heart stirred.  
"Nay, not against your will. I came not here to jail you. I came because I was worried. You received many wounds, and grievous they were."  
Sissi looked at him, "Then I bid you to take me to my Father, Prince Andril." She stood again, and she seemed fair again, and all hurts seemed to fall away from her. Her strength returned and her eyes burnt with a fire that could not be quenched. Andril saw this and smiled. "I do not deny you your wish, I will accompany you. There is little hope in keeping you here when you desire so much to see your Father. I will speak to the warden and do what I can." He turned and passed out of the room. Sissi smiled, and brushed back her hair, which seemed silver in the early light. She now wore a long white dress, which was light to touch and felt like water running over the skin such was the skill of the elves of that time. Her keen elven eyes watched the door, and her face became grave. Slowly she reached up with her hand, and placed it on her neck. She winced slightly as she rubbed her hand over a wound just above her shoulder and sighed. At that moment the door sprang open, and Sissi pulled her hand reluctantly down by her side. She smiled instinctively as Andril stepped back in and motioned for her to follow him. "It is against the Wardens wishes for you to leave, but I told her it was in your best interest to see your Father." Sissi just nodded and walked past him, once she was out in the cool fresh air, the pain in her neck was forgotten. The morning dew cooled her feet and the sun shone down on her, so that she felt refreshed, like the dawn of a new spring. Below her Rivendell stretched out, running through it like large wounds were blackened trees and orc bodies, so that it looked like Rivendell itself was injured. A tear forced its way out of her eye and trickled innocently down her cheek as she thought of the battle, and the ruining of Rivendell. "Do not cry Sissi, for Rivendell has power even you do not comprehend. It will be more beautiful then ever, and shall resemble Valinor itself in time."  
Sissi turned to him, "Prince Andril, you are an elf of Lothlorien, where the beauty is never in peril. Now I stand here, with my home destroyed below me and you tell me to save my tears?"  
Andril, taken aback by the anger simply watched her, as she headed off alone. Sympathy burned in his heart, but he was hurt by her words. Even as he stood overlooking Rivendell, a cloud seemed to pass over his eyes. He watched Sissi as she retreated into the distance and sighed. At that moment his doom was fulfilled. Many leagues away Galadrial stood, a single tear rolled down her face. She alone, one of the Firstborn knew now that Lothlorien would come to ruin. Still Andril stood, and his mind was focused. Then he looked up, and his face seemed grave. He followed after Sissi, and passed into Rivendell.  
  
At that time another elf of Lothlorien stood in Rivendell, his hands clenched on the balcony rail as he overlooked a waterfall. His were drawn towards the small wooded area where so many orcs had perished days before. He too had fought in that battle, although he was loathe to agree with Andril when he had ordered an army to help Rivendell. This elf was Huz, and he was the younger sibling of Andril, son of Galadrial. He was slightly shorter then Andril, but his face resembled that of his brother. He too wore shining armour but with a blood-red sword at his side, that glowed fiercely when an enemy was near. As he stood and watched the forest, his eyes picked up a movement. Something passed in the line of his vision, but it was fast. It seemed too fast to be an elf, but too graceful to be an orc. It glimmered in the sunlight and then disappeared. Huz shook his head and his golden hair fell about his shoulders and glimmered not unlike his brothers. He turned slowly, his elven senses had told him something was moving behind him.  
"I see that you are eager to set off for home." Elrond said, as he walked through the door.  
"Our task here is done, we have saved Rivendell, we must now enforce Lothlorien so that the Golden Wood comes to no harm." Huz spoke forcefully, and with a great passion "I trust that if ever help is needed, you will not hesitate to come to our need."  
"Even as you speak the union between Rivendell and Lothlorien has strengthened." Elrond said, before turning and leaving the room. Huz watched him go. He did not understand what Elrond had meant by those words, but a great shadow of doubt passed over him and weighed down his heart. In his mind, he longed to return home, and cursed his brother for keeping them in Rivendell when there was no reason for them being there. He turned once more to the open window, where a small group of golden haired elves prepared a number of horses. Long could the elves of Lothlorien abide in Rivendell, for it was fair and joyful but their hearts were always turned towards the West and their home, where the great Mallorn trees stood proud and beautiful and time seemed to stand still. Huz watched the elves with a growing restlessness. He quickly headed down the winding steps and passed under the great canopy of trees surrounding the door of his chamber. He approached the band of elves, and the stood up to greet him. "Prince Huz, we are restless, how long must we stay here?"  
"We shall leave at dawn."  
"But Prince Andril.."  
"My brother is nowhere to be seen, no doubt he has gone to visit Sissi in the Houses of Healing. We shall leave at dawn."  
The elves watched Huz, they daren't argue with him, but they became worried. Prince Andril had bid them stay for 3 more days, they were now torn between the two brothers. Andril was a strong and fearless fighter, who was respected and loved by all who knew him. Many had been saved by him in the battle, and they loved him like a brother. But Huz was promising them a journey home sooner then anticipated, and their hearts longed to leave again. Now the kindred split into two, some gathered their horses and began to prepare for the journey, while many stayed behind, promising to follow Huz once Andril had returned. A messenger was sent to Elrond asking for supplies for the departing elves, and Elrond issued orders that a great feast should be laid out in honour of Andril and Huz and the elves of Lothlorien. Although Elrond was against the Lothlorien elves leaving so soon, he could not stop Huz leading his band of elves away. The elves who remained loyal to Andril however, felt a great sadness in their hearts that they too would not be departing, yet their love for Andril was strong enough to hold them in sway.   
  
At the time Huz issued the order for the elves to leave Rivendell, and the Fellowship passed into the doors of Moria, an event occurred just outside the confines of the valley that shook the very foundations of Middle Earth. For Saruman himself had came forth to look upon the fair land. He saw the Last Homely House and laughed. His laughter filled the valley of Rivendell and it seemed all was quiet, the sun dimmed and clouds filled the sky. Saruman was looking upon Andril, son of Galadrial, his fair face shone in the darkness. Below him was Sissi Elrond, most beautiful of the elves in Rivendell. As the two elves passed into Rivendell, Saruman issued forth a great white light around himself, and a shadow passed over him, so that he became unseen to those but the most watchful. Then he too came into Rivendell and where his feet fell, the Earth became black and lifeless. So it was that Saruman himself infiltrated Rivendell for a time. But seeing the elves of Lothlorien, fair and terrible in his eyes, he withheld his wrath. Instead he turned East, and abode in the woods East of Rivendell, near to the Houses of Healing, waiting for his time to come, when Rivendell would finally be weak enough for him to go quietly and sieze Sissi. He laughed to himself. "Gandalf, you fool! If you shall send a spy into Mordor with the one ring, why not I use the same ploy to get what I want. For when armies and battles fail, the cunning may triumph." Even as he spoke, and hid his eyes from the beauty of Lothlorien, he focused all his thought on the valley below. There stood one who he could use in his plans. As he watched the elf, he smiled. His mind filled with malice, was directed towards that elf, and a plan formed in Sarumans head that he shall take that elf and keep him in the dungeons of Orthanc until all was ready. For now, however, he waited amid the dark canopy of fir trees around him, and none who came to that woods in the time he dwelt there lived to come out. But Saruman was not alone in the woods. As the elves of Rivendell prepared the feast, and the sun waned in the sky, the stars crept out and illuminated the night sky. The elves joyfully sang a song about the beauty of the sky and praising Elbereth, who was greatly loved by the elves. Their song crept up through the valley, and filled the night air, and all who heard it felt contented and relaxed. For Saruman however, the song was like a dagger piercing his heart and he held his head as a hatred burnt inside him, so intense that the veil of secrecy he had woven around himself fell, and he was revealed to be Saruman of the Istari. Many elves saw the white light above and fear filled their hearts. Saruman quickly passed into shadow again, but now the wood around him was alert, and a strange noise echoed around the trees, that seemed to lean away from him, as if they too were afraid. Something cracked in the bushes behind him, but as he turned a dark shadow shot out from behind him once more. Everywhere he turned, there seemed to be some sort of beast passing unhindered through the undergrowth. He thought he saw two amber eyes, deep and sorrowful illuminated slightly in the darkness below the trees, but no sooner had he noticed them, they had disappeared. For this was the same shadow that Huz had seen earlier. Saruman fled and hid himself deep in the heart of the forest, vowing never to lift his veil of secrecy again. The beast had startled him, and doubt filled his mind. He cursed the beast, and wondered what it was, he had never heard or seen anything of the kind, but as he sat there, consumed in wrath and fear, a shadow of recognition awoke in his mind, and Saruman, most powerful of the Wizards on Middle-Earth, of whom Gandalf himself answered too knew what it was. Never again did he return to that part of the forest, and where his footsteps had once blackened it, life grew again, and it became beautiful and surpassed the beauty of the valley of Rivendell. 


	3. The Feast of Elrond

Chapter #3 - The Feast of Elrond  
Andril and Sissi returned to Rivendell side by side, to find the elves in uproar. Many had bows in their hands, and were nervously watching the valleyside where Saruman had revealed himself. Andril grabbed a nearby elf, who was only young compared to the Prince. His brown hair was cut shorter then usual and his bright blue eyes were open with fear.  
"What has happened?"  
"Prince Andril…it was barely an hour ago, up on the valleyside" He raised a shaking finger upwards, but Andril didn't turn "We..we saw him. Saruman! He revealed himself in a flash of light, like lightning as it were..but as soon as he had appeared, he fled."  
"He fled? Why?"  
"That I cannot say."  
"Aye, I can" Shouted a Lothlorien elf who had been listening to the conversation. "Some kind of beast if my eyes are correct. It's coat glistened like the black sky, littered with stars, and I was sure two amber eyes, like burning coals could be seen on that hill." With that a roar of amusement rose up from the elves nearby. "You've had too much wine Hadul." Shouted the elf Andril had questioned. Hadul just sighed. "I know what I saw, now I beg your leave Prince Andril, I must go and attend to the feast."  
Andril bowed and bid him go. Sissi stood behind him silently, contemplating what had been said. "Come Sissi, it is not our place to be out here, if what they say is true." Sissi nodded in agreement, but her face was sad.  
"I just wish my home was safe from Saruman. Isn't there anything we can do?"  
"That is something I wish to discuss with your Father."  
Together, the two elves walked into Rivendell. They walked up the winding stairs to the top of the very tower Elrond had stood at when all hope was lost for Rivendell in the siege. There they stood for a while, watching over Rivendell and all who looked up saw them revealed to be great warriors, that shone brightly and fiercely in the night sky. There they stood and spoke of days passed, and of the beauty of Lothlorien, for Sissi longed to travel Middle-Earth, just as Andril had but her Father had forbade her.  
"But why? I can look after myself." She said haughtily. She turned to Andril, who just shrugged.  
"I do not doubt it, but still there are worse things then orcs in Middle-Earth and at this time, nobody is safe. Not even Andril of Lothlorien."  
"These things that are worse then orcs? Is that what Hadul saw on the very outskirts of Rivendell?"  
"Speak not of it Sissi, for darkness is not the time to speak of such matters." Andril turned away, and his eyes glistened as he watched the spot where the beast was seen. A small smile crossed his face as he thought he saw a creature melt away before his eyes, then what seemed like a cloud of dust swept away and out of the forest. Andril and Sissi had become good friends, and the Lothlorien elves saw that from below the tower. Those who vowed to follow Huz muttered. "We do not need to stay in Rivendell, but Andril is no longer on the side of reason." The other elves ignored this, but looked up too, and longed to return to the land they love.  
  
Soon the trumpets of Rivendell sounded, and Sissi and Andril were called to the Great Feast. Andril was puzzled by this, and wondered what the feast was for. He presumed it was for the return of Sissi, for there had been much rejoicing in her safe return from the House of Healing.   
So it was that the Great Feast of Elrond began in honour of Andril and Huz, and many journeyed to Rivendell. There was Bilbo, for he had slept right through the battle as hobbits do, and Glorfindol, and Thorin Stonehelm of the Lonely Mountain was also there, for he was a great friend of Andril and had came to honour him. Andril and Sissi entered the great feasting hall, which was decorated with colours of green and gold. The moonlight shone through the windows and illuminated the table, where many fair elves sat. At the top of the table was Elrond, and Huz was at his left hand side. There was a seat for Sissi, and on his right, a seat for Andril. Everybody save Huz rose and bowed to the newcomers, and a great cheer rose up. Then the elves broke into song.  
  
A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!  
Silivren penna miriel  
O menel aglar elenath,  
Gilthoniel, A! Elbereth!  
We still remember, we who dwell  
In this far land beneath the trees  
The starlight on the Western Seas.  
  
The music lifted the hearts of all in the halls, and Andril smiled. Even Thorin Stonehelm allowed himself a slight grin as the beauty of the elven song stirred his heart. After the song, another great cry rose up, lifting the roof of the great feasting all, finally all was quiet, save for the sound of Bilbo clapping cheerfully.  
"Well met Andril! Great to see you back, and you Sissi, fairest of the elves of Rivendell."  
Sissi blushed, and bowed to the hobbit before taking a seat next to Huz, who barely smiled at her. Andril bowed to the hobbit, and watched him with interest as he took his place at the table, opposite Huz. He had never seen one of these Halflings, but had heard much about them from Gandalf the Grey. He was about to ask old Bilbo about the Shire, and Hobbiton but he was interrupted by Elrond.   
"Greetings, elves of Rivendell and Lothlorien, and men from Gondor." Andril and Sissi looked down the table, where several burly men sat, still in their armour of Gondor. "And of course our delightful Mr Baggins, as well as visitors from distant lands. Thorin Stonehelm, of the Lonely Mountain, Emoren of Rohan and Radagast the Brown." Another cheer rose for the visitors, who were here on many errands. Elrond sat again, and poured himself some wine. Sissi spoke to him in a hushed voice, and when he spoke, Sissi's face went grey, and sadness burnt in her eyes. But Andril was oblivious of that, he was speaking quietly to Emoren of Rohan.  
"So, what brings you on such an errand that you braved Mount Caradhras itself?"  
"Who else but Saruman? The borders of Rohan are beset with beasts. Fell voices are heard at night, and many of our horses have been killed by the orcs of Saruman. Now we are enclosed, with the evil in the West growing ever stronger, we are not strong enough to fight a battle on both fronts. Gondor is under siege, or will be ere the month is out, so no help will come from them." He bowed his head, but Andril smiled encouragingly.  
"Where help is needed I shall offer my assistance. I promise that once my task here is done, I myself shall come to Rohan, if that is as you wish." Emoren smiled, and slapped Andril on the back.   
"That is a hope beyond hopes, an Elven Prince in Rohan!" Andril smiled and looked across at Sissi. She stared down into her wine glass, but when she looked up, a tear streaked down her face, and she looked at Andril in anger. "Why didn't you tell me?" Andril looked at her, shocked.  
"Tell you what?" Sissi opened her mouth to reply, but she was interrupted once more by Elrond, who had stood up again. "Greetings everyone, for we have many things to celebrate. Firstly, my daughter Sissi who fought so well has recovered." The room cheered, but Sissi just smiled slightly and bowed her head. "And secondly, we are honouring the brave elves of Lothlorien and their two captains, Andril and Huz." More cheering echoed around the beautiful room. "Sadly, they have decided to leave and return home tomorrow, so we wish them.."  
"What?" Andril had stood up, knocking his wine glass over as he did so. Huz stood up and looked him in the eye.  
"We are leaving at dawn. I gave the order. You have no reason to stay here."  
Andrils eyes flashed to Sissi, who was looking up at them both now. The room fell silent, all around there was a murmur of discontent from the elves of Lothlorien.  
"I have my reasons." Growled Andril, his eyes flashing toward Sissi. But Huz noticed and laughed.  
"Sissi? You're staying here for her?"  
Andril looked at Elrond, but his fists were clenched. "Am I right in thinking Saruman attacked Rivendell solely because of Sissi Elrond, your daughter?"  
"No…me?" Sissi broke the silence. But Elrond waved her to be silent.  
"That is true..this is not the way I wanted her to know. Saruman is after Sissi because with her death shall come the fall of Rivendell, or so the prophecy says."  
Huz looked at Elrond, then back at Andril. "And you intend to stay here and be the hero? You're a fool brother."  
Andril turned on Huz, "Yes I intend to stay, not because I am a fool, but because I feel that we need to unite to defeat the evil in Middle-Earth, you are too short sighted. You care about Lothlorien only, but if Rivendell shall fall, Middle-Earth will follow." Huz snorted.  
"I will lead the elves of Lothlorien back to our home, you stay here and die if you want. You're no brother of mine." Shocked by this announcement, the elves of Lothlorien bowed their heads. They loved Andril, but they became resigned to losing him. For Galadrial had given him the choice, protect Sissi or return home. He alone out of the elves of Lothlorien would not return now, and many mourned the passing of Andril from his kin.   
"I shall stay here, and if Saruman wishes Sissi dead, then it will be through me, I will die before I see any harm come to her, or Rivendell." Huz just stormed out of the room, his footsteps echoing away down the hall. Andril turned to Elrond. "I will protect Sissi, if you say."  
"Yea I do say Andril son of Galadrial, protect my daughter."  
Somebody coughed near to Andril, he turned to them. It was Thorin Stonehelm. "Forgive me for my inturruption Master Elf, but there is something you have not considered."  
"And what would that be?"  
"Sissi is gone."  
Every person in the hall turned to the now empty seat. A murmur rose in the hall. Sissi had fled. 


	4. Unexpected Company

Chapter 4 - Unexpected Company  
The Great Feast was over, and the uneaten food still lay on the table. Rivendell was silent. The moon shone restlessly through the curved windows, and illuminated the now empty room. A mournful tune filled Rivendell, and the elves mourned the loss of their Princess, so soon after having her snatched back from the jaws of death. Only the elves of Lothlorien were busy, preparing horses and retrieving any arrows that could be used after the battle. It would be a perilous journey back to their home, and a sad one, for already a song had been written about the parting of Andril from his kin, and the elves hummed it sadly. A great shadow of doubt and restlessness hung over Rivendell, and the forest nearby stood tense and silent, as though waiting for a great event to take place.  
In the hall a shadow stretched across the glistening marble floor. A hunched figure sat with it's back to the open window. Its head was bowed as in deep thought. It was Andril, and his eyes seemed dull and emotionless as the events of the day flowed through his mind. He pulled back his hood and let out a deep sigh, which echoed around the tall roofed chamber, with its mighty pillars standing now menacingly in the half light. A shuffling noise in the corner awoke his senses, but fearing no evil in Rivendell he barely stirred. The small shadow passed over towards him, waddling slightly as it bounced along. It was Bilbo, fresh from one of his naps. He had stayed with Elrond long enough to not be in awe of the elves, but talking to one so high made the poor hobbit uncomfortable.   
"Forgive me Master Andril, but Sissi issued forth ere 2 hours ago. Surely you will follow her?" The elf showed no sign of replying, so Bilbo persisted. "I mean, surely an elf of your….I can't quite find the word, stature as it were, would find her even at night?"  
At this Andril smiled, but no happiness crossed his face, his heart was weighed down by many things. "And where would I look Mr Baggins? I alone cannot search the whole of Middle-Earth, nor find somebody who has such a reluctance to be found."  
"Then you can travel back to your homeland and forget about poor Sissi." Bilbo watched the elf, sterness in his face. The elf smiled, never had he been spoke to like that by an elf, never mind a creature barely a third his size.   
"You speak rightly Bilbo, and I am impressed by your frankness to tell me what nobody else daren't." A slight look of amusement on his face, he continued, "Ever I have been told by Gandalf that hobbits are remarkable creatures, yet until now I was inclined to disagree." He stood and bowed to the hobbit, who bobbed up and down graciously, not finding the words to speak to the High Elf. Then Andril turned and left the hall, and prepared himself for a great journey. Barely an hour passed before Andril was ready, his silver armour now glowed in the starlight, and as the moonlight hit the armour, it was reflected and sparkled and broke like waves upon the shore, for this was the armour created in the dungeons of Moria, when the Dwarven dwelling was at its peak. It had once been a gift to Celeborn himself from Durin the Deathless. Andril carried a longbow, the finest that Rivendell could offer, for his longer bow was lost in the battle, and it grieved Andril greatly. Finally, he collected together enough lembas for a few months, and filled up his flask with a clear liquid, that strengthened the limbs of even the most tired traveller. It saddened him to think that Sissi had left without her provisions although her sword was missing from her chambers. Finally Andril stood, and bade Hadul go and tell Elrond that he had departed. This Hadul did, but Elrond was in the House of Records, and nobody was allowed in while he remained there.   
  
So it was that even before Huz led his elves out of Rivendell, Andril departed, and a great host came to bid him farewell. Huz however, did not come, and it burdened Andrils heart that their love should end in such a fashion. But Andril was stubborn, and he would not forsake Sissi while he still had life in him, as he had vowed barely 3 hours before. So he left, he did not take a horse, "My road will lead me through places I wish to take no elf or beast with me, for many dangers I shall encounter." And he came upon the edge of the valley of Rivendell before sunrise. There he stood for a while. South lay the enemy, and a black smoke seemed to thicken the air beyond the cold white peaks of the Misty Mountains. Then he turned East, to his home and his heart leaped with sorrow and grief. Only once before the elves had found their very existence in danger. He had learnt stories of the March of The West against Morgoth, and know he knew the time had come for a deed to match the elves of that day. There he stayed for a while, the long road lay open before him, whilst the warmth and comfort of Rivendell lay behind. But Andril did not look back as finally he passed out of sight of Rivendell and rested for a while beneath a small canopy of trees below the waning moon.   
It was near the banks of Loudwater that Andril came to, just as the first rays of sun brought a new day. Andril stood by the banks of the River, and prepared to cross, but he found the water deep and fast flowing. He wandered far up the banks of the river, where small animals came to drink in the safety of the light, which offered them security from the evil things at night. It was a clear day, and the mighty tip of Amon Sul, or Weathertop as it was known now could be seen like a ghost of days gone by in the distance. Andril however, was distracted by a noise in the small canopy he had recently stood in. A smoke seemed to rise up through the thick blanket of green leaves that had sprung out in the coming of Summer. Taking an arrow and notching it in his bow, Andril headed towards the noise. The sunlight offered little reassurance for the elf, as Uruk-Hai could move in the light without any problem. Now the smoke became thicker, and the smell of meat drifted towards Andril, who wrinkled his nose. The smell did not seem foul however, and whatever diseased carrion the orcs eat, this was not it. Still however, Andril crept quietly up, his feet barely bending the grass as he silently and lightly brushed aside a branch to see who or what it was. Before he could see however, he heard a gruff voice speak.  
"Follow him, follow an elf Lord, a son of Galadrial! Not even a ranger could do this, they barely leave a mark!"  
"Unlike you, Master Dwarf, who cannot go two steps without letting the whole forest know you are there." Said a voice, slightly hushed, as though it did not want anyone hearing them. Andril smiled, secrecy was unlikely with a fire blazing and the smell of meat attracting evety living thing that lived in that dense forestation. But Andrils heart was lifted, because at least he recognised the Dwarfs voice, deep and gruff as it was. However, the mans voice was harder to place, it seemed foreign, but not from Gondor. Then it struck him, it belonged to a man of Rohan. He looked through, and his suspicions were confirmed. There sat a dwarf with a long brown beard, holding a shining grey axe and looking battle worn in his dwarven armour. Next to him sat a tall man, who had fierce blue eyes and blond hair that reminded Andril of straw. He too wore armour, but carried a shield which was green and emblazed with a white horse across it. On his waist was a small ivory horn, with twisting metal decorations like snakes that wound their way around the horn. His armour was that of Rivendell. Andril watched the man for a moment, until he turned. Then Andril burst through the undergrowth, to the shock of the dwarf, who promptly fell backwards off his perch, and grumbled as he pulled himself back up. The man however, had been more alert, and had his sword ready as Andril stepped forward.  
"You are quick, for a man, Emoren." Smiled Andril  
"I am a messenger, I must have my wits about me." He too smiled, and bowed to Andril. "Forgive us for following you, but we come to aid you on your task. Thorin Stonehelm here wishes to return to the Lonely Mountain, and me to Rohan, but as your task lies in between our journeys, we will offer any assistance we can." Then he knelt and offered his sword to Andril.  
"I wish for no help on my journey, I do not wish to lead such good friends into danger."  
"And danger you will find yourself, whether you want or not, but I will not let you go alone, for there may be a time when a strong dwarven axe may be useful." Said Thorin, forcefully.  
"Then you are welcome to join me, and may your words prove true Thorin Stonehelm, for long has your axe triumphed in battle." Then he bowed and sat next to them. "I do not forsake my promise to you Emoren, son of Theoren. I will come to Rohan as werigold for your assistance."  
The Rider smiled, and turned the meat on the fire. The three sat in silence for a while, until the meat was cooked and Emoren and Thorin eat hungrily, until barely a scrap was left. Then Emoren spoke once more.  
"Then tell me Prince Andril, where do you intend to lead us?"  
"Firstly I wish to visit an old friend, she may know where Sissi has gone, but at the least she can give us shelter for a while. Her table is never empty when I visit."  
The dwarf eyed Andril suspiciously. "I presume you mean Aurian, the follower of Melian?"  
"That I do Thorin, and long has she been a friend to my people, although she tends to live alone, she has always liked to hear tales of past wars and battles. She loves all things in nature, and grieves for the hurts done to them by the enemy. She will help as she can." Then he became silent, and his face became thoughtful. Emoren turned to Thorin. "And where does this maiden live?"  
"None know save the elves of Lothlorien. She wraps a veil of secrecy about her home, and none know of her lineage nor whence she came."  
With this Emoren too became quiet, it was clear that the dwarf did not love the elves, and he seemed fearful of this Aurian. But Andril did not seem concerned, and was oblivious to Thorins fears. There they sat and spoke long, of the restoration of the Lonely Mountain and of the Riders of Rohan, but still Andril stayed silent, occasionally looking up at Emoren when he spoke of Theoden, King of The Mark and Eowyn, whom was like a daughter to him. They did not notice the creature that had followed them, as it rested its head on its paws and silently watched them, its amber eyes unblinking. Then it stood and shook itself off, and passed unseen over the river. 


	5. Hard Rock and Cold Steel

Chapter #5 - Hard Rock and Cold Steel  
It had been two days since the three companions had met, and now they stood at the foot of the Misty Mountains. The weather had deteriorated, for the most part, the sun had beat down upon there backs, causing much grumbling from Thorin, who tended to wear thick cloaks and heavy dwarven armour. Now the sun had sunk behind the clouds, and a thin mist swirled around their feet, wisping upwards as it gathered at the mountain peaks, which were barely visible above them. The land behind them sloped gently, and was fairly barren, with green meadows punctuated by swampy marshlands where millions of insects crawled. Ahead green was scarce, instead the land was grey and jagged, the roots of the great mountains stood before them and to Emoren, the road ahead seemed long and hard. Thorin however, had relaxed greatly as they neared the solid rock underfoot. Tapping the stone with his axe, he smiled. "Here a dwarf could dwell in comfort."  
"Here a dwarf wouldn't last long at night, when the orcs of the mountains swarm out over this land hunting for food." Replied Andril, who had his back turned to Thorin, and was staring up at the mountain road. "The road is climbing steeply for many miles, but then it drops steadily. I do not presume it is unused, but still we shall go that way, for we must have the most part of the Mountains far behind us by nightfall." Emoren pulled up his backback, and tightened his belt. He found Andril a great lord, who spoke little. Curiously for an elf, he seemed bereft of joy and mirth, and a great burden seemed to weigh heavily on his shoulders. But like all who knew him, he had grown to love Andril, and would follow him even to Mordor if asked. With a wave of his hand, Andril stepped forward. He did not speak of the path ahead to the others, Thorin was a great warrior, and did not fear death, but for Emoren he was unsure. He was a Rider of the Mark, and fierce in battle they were but Emoren was young in the years of men, like a sapling that had yet to grow into a tree. Andril was yet to decide whether he could brave the hardness of this land.   
"Come Emoren, Thorin, we must leave." Their hearts seemed heavy to leave the green meadows, and attempt the crossing into the open jaws of the goblins of the mountain. Thorin however, was not perturbed, and marched ahead, humming to himself and stroking his beard as he marvelled at the huge rocks either side of the road. For many hours they walked, the path crept upwards and barely swerved in its direction. Andril looked down, to the right was the sheer wall of rock, with barely a crack or crevice to use as a handhold, while to the left lay a deep chasm, where all seemed dark. It was like a tear down the heart of the Misty Mountains, and it stretched wide and deep, and many fell things lived there, consumed in their hatred for light. Soon the path seemed to level off, and twist away from the chasm. They found themselves in a valley of sorts, where the rock stretched up in a v shape from the path. Here a few green leaves could be seen creeping through the cracked rock. Thorin looked around, and spoke, his voice ricocheting around the Mountains.  
"My axe is restless on my belt, this valley seems quiet, yet you believe these mountains are pouring with orcs." The noise seemed to awaken the mountain, and all around, a watchful silence gathered around them. A shrill wind whistled down the path, and screeched past their ears.  
"Your axe will have plenty to swing at when the sun falls below that peak." Andril answered, his eyes darting around the dull grey rock. Emoren opened his eyes wide in fear. He began to wish to see the flat fields of Rohan and the straw roofs in the fair city of Edoras. Even now the sun was waning in the sky, although by Andrils reckoning it was barely 5 o'clock. The shadows stretched long behind them as they trudged on, silent once more. All around a faint whispering could be heard, and the wind picked up a little. Emoren shuddered as a single flake of snow fell lightly on his cheek, melting as it hit his warm skin. He pulled his cloak tighter around him and looked at Andril who had stopped.  
"What is wrong?"  
"I do not know, my heart tells me that something is not right." Andril looked ahead, then slowly looked down. As he did, he cried aloud, and all who heard it thought it to be some fair beast that had been injured or trapped. Thorin moved forward eagerly, his hands on his axe, and Emoren slowly placed his on the hilt of his sword. Andril did not move for his weapons, instead he knelt down and picked up something. It was a brooch, used to tie a cloak. It was white, shaped like a lily. It looked to be made of ice, yet it was hard to the touch, like it was wrought with steel. A single drop of black orc blood lay on its face, smearing the beautiful work of Westernesse of old. Now Andril spoke solemnly, as the sadness of the previous week finally caught him.  
"This is the work of Numenor of old, it was forged by their great smiths and given to Rivendell. It belongs to Princess Sissi, and alas, I believe now she passed this way and was waylaid by orcs on this very path." Finally Andrils spirit failed, and e sat down on the path, all hope lost.   
"I have forsaken my very homeland to come on this quest, yet now I have failed this too." To Emoren it seemed the roots of Andrils burden were revealed. He placed his hand on the elfs shouder.  
"Long has hope gone, and help came unlooked for. Even now I do not believe Princess Sissi to be dead. She was fair and beautiful and beyond the words of men, and I for one will not give up on her until he dead body is buried in honour at the very gates of Rivendell."  
Thus Andril stood up, and a cold fury took him, and his eyes burnt with a fire that made Emoren step back in awe. He spoke slowly yet powerfully, so that all around creature of the darkness opened their ears and became afraid, and hid in their holes until the light of the elf was gone from that place.  
"I shall see to it that every orc or beast that laid a finger on Sissi shall regret it."  
Thorin laughed, and drew his axe, "And many shall regret the day Thorin, son of Dain Ironfoot took league with Master Andril and Emoren and assailed them." Even as they spoke the final ray of sunlight was extinguished as the sun drooped away. The darkness spread across them and a chill wind rattled the loose rocks as it swept through the valley. The three companins stood still, for a great noise could be heard above them. At the tip of the valley a single goblin stood, its back hunched and a snarl eminated fom its lips. The noise had bearly left its mouth when an arrow shot through the air. Its aim was true and the goblin fell, lifeless down towards Emoren, who stepped back as the body stopped in front of him. Then Emoren turned to Andril, who had notched another arrow in his bow so quickly he had barely seen it.   
"Mighty is the bow of Andril son of Celeborn." Andril turned, and a shrill cry could be heard from the valley top, where the mist now hung thick, and little could be seen. Andril turned his bow this way and that, but no clear shot could he find amid the jagged rocks and thick mist. Still Andril burned with fury, and his face was stern and terrible to behold. Now many orcs had clambered and scrambled down the valleyside unnoticed, and assailed the three companions from behind. Thorin however, was quick, and joyfully he swung his axe, so that three goblins fell instantly, decapitated. Emoren too had turned to greet the goblins, and any doubts Andril had soon faded as the Rider of Rohan cut a line through the goblins as his blade shone lustily. Andril himself had barely contained his wrath, and all who stood before him quiled in fear. His mighty Lothlorien blade sang and blood flowed over the edges like wine at a feast. Arrows whistled overhead, but these were no elves, and many bounced and clattered amongst the rocks above them. Soon more then 30 goblin bodies lay before them, and Emoren rested a while on his sword. His limbs were weary but still he fought on. Luckily for the travellers, this was just a small stronghold of orcs and soon they fled. They had attacked what looked like three lost travellers, and had been shocked to stumble upon the might of a wrathful elven Prince and a grim faced and mighty human. Their hatred however was for the Dwarf of the Lonely Mountain. Long they had detested this race, and now Thorin had cleaved more then half their number. Now as they fled, they cursed his name and hid themselves, consumed in bitterness and anger. Thorin watched joyfully and swung his axe as the last of the orcs diappeared over the valleyside. Andril pulled his blade out of the body of a large goblin cheiftan and turned to Emoren.   
"Often hope has deserted me, only for new hope to come, now I say Emoren of the Riddermark, you are blessed, for Sissi Elrond did not perish here on this mountain. She was assailed, but she lived, for the orcs are sparse and unarmoured here, and she a great warrior. Even now she will have passed over the mountains and it warms my heart to think that she too may come to Aurians home where no hurt will befall her."  
Thorin sat down. "Long have we tarried here, and my arms are weary like I never thought would be possible, yet now I must rest for the journey ahead is long and dangerous. Shall we not sleep for a while?" Emoren nodded in agreement.  
"I too am weary beyond belief, I wish to rest too." Then turning to Andril he bowed. "But if you wish me to go on, I will follow you to the ends of Middle-Earth."  
Andril bowed too, "Mighty are the dwarfs of the kin of Durin, and the Riders of Rohan, but I ask for one more push before we rest, for many orcs still dwell in these parts, and it will not be long before we are assailed again, by a number far greater than that we were before." So the three stumbled forward, only Andril now stood straight, for walking under the stars of Elbereth was enough rest for him, and he sang a song as he walked.  
  
In Dwimordene, in Lorien  
Seldom have walked the feet of Men,  
Few mortals have seen the light  
That lies there ever, long and bright.  
Galadrial! Galadrial!  
Clear is the water of your well;  
White is the star in your white hand;  
Unmarred, unstained is leaf and land  
In Dwimordene, in Lorien  
More fair than thoughts of Mortal Men  
  
Thorin barely listened, for he was not interested in the trees and streams of Lorien, but the stones and gems of Moria. Emoren, however listened intently and it seemed to him that a vision of a place timeless and beautiful glowed before his eyes. The sweet singing filled his heart with joy, and for a while, as Prince Andril sung under the moonlight, Emoren forgot all that was, instead he was lost in a world of starlight and joy. Then he remembered, and a great sorrow filled him as he saw only the greyness of the mountains.  
"I would dearly like to visit the great land of Lorien."  
"Then, as my guest you shall come, for Loriens time is ending." Sighed Andril. "And all that once was is lost, but you out of the men of Rohan shall see the fair land,!"  
Emoren smiled, and the sorrow was lifted. Long had he heard tales of the peril of the Lady of the Wood, but now looking upon her fair offspring, hope sprung anew in his heart that Rohan would not fall, and the West shall not be enslaved. Andril however, had all his heart and mind turned to Frodo, and the quest to destroy the ring of doom. 


	6. The Twilight Maiden

Chapter 6 - Twilight Maiden  
It took many days to cross the jagged rocks of Magris, which stretched across the mountains like a gaping jaw. Finally however, the winding path that Andril had taken began to wind down, and the air grew warmer. Long they marched, with just lembas, the waybread of the elves to sustain them. Finally the mist around their feet cleared, and below them was a barren land, with the occasional berry bush sprouting from the dry meadows. In many places the land was burnt, scarred from battles long ago and camps made by Rangers of the North, who regularly passed this way. The sun rose high in the sky as midday approached, and many leagues had been left behind them, but still they had many days travelling before they reached Caris Gwladys, the home of Aurian. Now Andril spoke to Emoren in length of the tale of Aurian.  
"Aurian is older, older then much of this land, yet she is not of the firstborn. Long ago there was an elf, he loved the twilight and the night, and he lived long, alone in shadows of Nan Elmoth. He blamed the elves for the kinslaying, a tale I have not the time to tell, and he loved the dwarves and all their work. He created the metal galvorn, that was jet black, and he was often clad in it. He was a high elf of the Teleri, and long ago he wed Aradhel, whom had wandered into his land. There she dwelt, although she longed to return home. She gave him one son, Maeglin. Long are the tales of his deeds, both good and evil. It is little known however, that Aradhel bore him a daughter too, and much like her Father was she. She dwelt alone under the stars, often wondering far. She loved the elves, but feared them too. She dwelt for a while in Nan Elmoth until the world changed. Then she befriended the elves of Lothlorien and built her home on its borders, little now does she leave her abode."  
"Eol!" Thorin exclaimed, "I remember the tales of him well, he was named the Dark Elf, and he was a great friend of the dwarfs, much he told us of the elves." Andril nodded, and continued.  
"Eol he was, and he named his daughter Aurian. While in her home, she was visited once by Yavanna, the Valar or God in the human tongue. Yavanna loves all things that grow on the Earth. She is clad in green and mourns for all the hurts done by the evil to trees, fruits and things that grow. Yavanna visited Aurian, and what she said is a mystery, for Aurian barely spoke to elves afterwards, keeping to herself. She discarded her black armour and instead wore gold and silver, depending on the season. Now Aurian too loves all that grows, yet she cares greatly for elves and the mind of Eol is in her. Long she has aided us by keeping orcs from crossing our borders. She is a fearsome foe. Twilight Maiden she is known to some, Fearless Peril to others."  
"I have heard little of this Aurian." Emoren said, "But even in Rohan the rumour of a hidden danger in the woods of Caris Gwladys is told, where a perilous maiden dwells, and all who have seen her have been driven to madness."  
"If everybody in Rohan listens to your lore Emoren, then much have I to teach them, for Aurian is not perilous, save to those who bring war to her." Andril replied. Then he spoke no more. His eyes scanned the flat plain below them. To the South the sun glinted off something golden, it glinted and flashed and then could not be seen. Andril sighed. Thorin came beside him and leant on his axe.   
"You see the woods of Lothlorien far off, I can see you wish to return, yet I do not care for them, or the Lady. I do not wish to go there." Emoren looked up at Andril, but he did not seem angry with the dwarves words, instead he looked amused, and his eyes showed slight amusement.  
"Then Master Dwarf, you can stand outside and keep all the orcs of Moria at bay."  
Thorin grunted, and walked forward, further down the slope, muttering something about elves. Andril followed him, he did not show any sign that he was listening to Thorin, and still his eyes gazed South. Emoren followed at the rear, still Andril seemed without happiness and mirth, and long he pondered unseen thoughts while Emoren and Thorin watched.   
Finally they reached the foot of the mountains. Thorin seemed uneasy at the journey ahead but Andrils heart was lifted to see the cold white peaks behind him. They rested for a while sheltered behind a large outcrop of smooth white rock that lay in an untidy pile to the right of the path. It jutted out from the mountains like a claw. All around it the ground was softer, and small plants sprouted from the floor around them. Now the three companions crouched behind the rock, as the fierce wind whipped the East facing side. Thorin sat fingering his beard, his other hand absent mindedly running along the elaborate carvings on his axe hilt. Emoren lay with his back to the rock and wrapped his cloak tight around himself. He was hardy, as were all of the men of Rohan, but now his head nodded and his eyes closed involuntarily. Andril did not rest, instead he jumped lightly onto the rock and peered East.   
"We follow the path of the mountains for many miles South. Though we have travelled far, we are still only a league South of Rivendell, from whence we came. It is many leagues of barren country until we reach the fair river of Celebrant, and further down the Nimrodel. There we will turn East into the land of Lothlorien. Lothlorien! How I wish to see the beauty once again!"   
"Loth am I to travel to that woods, I wish only to find Sissi and return home." Thorin grumbled.  
"Yet our first task is to find Aurian, that is where we shall find answers about the Princess." Andril replied, "You have no oath to hold you on this road, you may return to the Lonely Mountain whenever you wish."   
"It is a weak heart who leaves his companions when the task becomes dangerous." Thorin replied, and spoke no more on the matter. Emoren felt the tension, and tried to find out more. Long he had questioned Andril about their task, yet he found him brooding and quiet, and not easy in giving up information. "Forgive me Andril, but you speak of Lothlorien, but not of Aurian, where does she dwell, for I know little of the lands outside Rohans borders, save for the way to Imildris."   
"Then you know as much as many who have sought out the twilight maiden, none have found her, and if they do, she weaves a veil of secrecy so that none come out to tell the tale."   
Emoren shuddered, maybe it was the wind sweeping through the cleft in between the rock and the mountains as the dying sun drifted below the horizon, but somehow he knew it was something else. No mortal had ever spoke to Aurian, yet if all went to plan, he would be the first. He glanced at Thorin, but he showed no signs of having heard Andril A dwarfs mind is so immersed in jewels and riches that they do not fear elves. Emoren bent his head back and glanced at the sky, which was now lighting up as stars slowly sprang alive. Finally sleep took him and his eyes closed, the last thing he seen was Andril, standing on the rock, his ears pricked and his far seeing eyes scanning the landscape.   
It was a long time before Thorin fell asleep, he stayed up long, pondering the road ahead. Little did he speak his concerns to Andril. A bond had been layed between Thorin and Emoren, and now Thorin became worried that Emoren was not suited to the journey that lay before them. Fast underfoot he may be, and he wielded a sword with considerable skill, yet their path towards the very gates of Moria, and there dwelt things that even Thorin Stonehelm quiled at. Then his thoughts turned to Lothlorien, and in the dwarfs mind this spelt doom for them all, even with Prince Andril there, the elves would be greatly angered to let a dwarf into their midst. Finally he too felt his head nodding and his loud snores echoed around the camp.   
Andril now stood still, his mind drifted to far away times yet always his body was alert, as a cat ready to pounce. A chill wind screeched, and then died. The rolling marshes had become deadly quiet, and bird nor beast called. Suddenly a roar went up, and an arrow flew towards him. The air around him became thick, and Andril found it difficult to move.   
"What sorcery is this?" He pondered as the black orc arrow fired from the mountains slowed and dropped impotently by his feet. Then a lone orc stood up, and he was tall and strong, for this was an orc cheiftan and red blood trickled down his black armour. On it was a painted a white hand, and the fingernails were black and blood stained. Squint eyed and terrible he looked, and the sky darkened around him. He raised his clawed hands to mouth to call his fellow orcs, but his cry was stopped short. He bent down, clasping his throat, before falling noiselessly towards Andril. The orc stopped at the feet of the elf, who stepped back in disgust. Before Andril had a chance to question the bizarre death of the orc, the air around him became less thick, but the wind picked up, then forming before his eyes was a maiden. Andril shielded his eyes as she stepped forward, never had he seen such a woman. She wore a long black dress that flowed effortlessly off her shoulders and a sleek black hood covered most of her face. A feint glow surrounded her, and Andril knew that this was no creature of Middle-Earth. She looked up, and slowly raised an arm. Fearing some sort of attack Andrils hands moved to the hilt of his sword, but the maiden simply pulled back her hood. Andril gasped, although he was speechless. The face was young, yet at the same time it seemed that a great age and wisdom were held in it. A vision of a higher power passed through Andrils mind, and an image of Goldberry flitted across his memory. The creature watched Andril, and her eyes glowed a dull amber colour. Then she spoke, although later Andril thought recalled that her lips never parted, but the voice danced and cascaded around his mind like a beautiful song. All thought of their present plight disappeared and the stars became fierce and bright as her clear voice echoed in his head.  
"I have come to pronounce your doom, Andril son of Celeborn." 


	7. Messenger of The Maia

Chapter 7  
"Your task is now dangerous, and the treachery of Saruman will consume all of Rivendell if you do not find the girl."  
Andril now found his heart sinking, and a vivid image of Sissi formed in his mind.  
"But where do I look, I feel that seeking for the twilight maiden is our only hope, yet even then all hope seems lost to me."  
"Do not contemplate that which has not yet happened, your companions are brave." She turned gracefully to Thorin and Emoren, who nodded as in an enchanted sleep. Presently she looked at them each in turn. Then she spoke softly.  
"Thorin Stonehelm does not love elves, but he is a willing companion. If asked, he will follow you to the end of all things, even if that doom lays solely upon him. Emoren son of Theoren is of stout heart also. Little help does he offer, yet remember Andril, even diamonds look uncouth ere they are polished and chipped. His time may come when all are grateful to him."  
Andril stepped forward, now that the shock of her appearance was sinking in, he longed to know more.  
"You speak in riddles of our fate, yet you tell us none of yours. Whither do you come from? For neither bird nor beast I have seen that reminds me of you."  
"Yet your Mother alone on Middle-Earth knows. She can answer all your questions, if your curiosity is not quenched by what I will say. From a forgotten time I come, messenger of Manwe!" With that she seemed to shrink and her body disintegrated into particles of sand. As this happened, the wind picked up, and she was scattered, each grain was taken up and bore away by the wind. Andril bowed his head. His heart had been touched, as all elves would. For he alone, son of Galadrial had seen a remanent of the West on the very soil of Middle-Earth.  
A loud noise startled him, and he looked up once more. Thorin had stirred and dropped his axe with a clatter on the cold rock. This woke Emoren up too, how rubbed his eyes and muttered, "Strange were my dreams. I saw a white light above the mountains that came nearer until it stood before Andril and seemed to speak into my head."  
"I too had a dream, yet I do not wish to speak of it." Said Thorin, and his eyes showed a deep sorrow. Then he noticed the orc, lying before them, blood now fell from its throat. "Andril! You could have done us the honour of waking us when battle was at hand."  
Still thoughtful, Andril answered, "I would have, for much use your axe would be in a battle, yet it was not me who felled that orc of Saruman."  
"The dream! It was the white light that felled him, as it were." Emoren exclaimed.  
"Yes, you remember the elves of Rivendell speaking of a shape in the mountains? That shape has followed us, and offered us aid when it was needed. Speak not of it now, for night is still drawn about us, we must move now, the orcs are closer then is safe!"  
The three quickly packed their bags, and set off on foot for the longest leg of their journey. They headed South, and for many miles the Mountains jutted out so that their movements were hidden from the orcs even if the all of the goblins of the Misty Mountains stood at the peaks and looked down, with the sight of elves. It was not the goblins that troubled Andril though. Long he had pondered the importance of Sissi to Saruman, but no idea had come to his head. Yet Saruman wanted her dead, and now his orcs knew of her disappearance and their errand to bring her back. Goblins they could face and win comfortably, but the Uruk-Hai, in enough numbers would overpower them eventually. He did not speak to the others of this, for their hearts seemed heavy with the long and fruitless journey ahead. Their flasks were empty and food was low. Andril had enough lembas for a week, maybe two, but whether that would last them remains to be seen. 


End file.
